


Bros

by Anonymous



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Consensual Underage Sex, Crushes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Max worries they'll grow apart once Billy graduates, Billy does everything to assure her that won't happen.-“So… you wore a skirt and perfume because you’re upset I’m graduating, but what’s the logic behind that?” Billy leans harder into her, murmurs lowly in her ear, “Girls usually just want me to notice them when they get a little gussied up like this. Is that it, Maxine? You dressed like this because you knew I’d notice you?” He can’t help himself when he chuckles. “You got something else you wanna tell me?”Max flinches hard next to him, sputtering and already shoving at his shoulder, his chest before he gets another word out. Billy manages a slick grin when she glances at him through a lock of her hair. She throws a scowl in his direction but cannot hope to cover up the flush under her freckles. It’s cute. She’s cute.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49
Collections: Anonymous





	Bros

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/gifts).



> I did not originally intent this to be an homage to Lucdarling's Billy in their Billy/Max, Billy & Max fics. But in retrospect, it really is lol. This is... the most mellow Billy I've written since I wrote my first Stranger Things fic lol. He's almost nice!
> 
> I've got two more stories in the bank, "Fruit Vert" and "The Cruelest Love in the World." "Fruit Vert" has Billy as Max's step uncle (Neil's brother) and he wants a piece of his niece during a family reunion lol. Only to find out a few months later he's gotten them into a =3c sticky situation (no, she's not pregnant, fuck no). "The Cruelest Love in the World" is an ABO fic. Billy presents as an alpha and stakes his premature claim on Max long before she presents. Too bad for him she turns out to be an alpha, too. Oops. Please look forward to those, I have no idea when I'll post them.

Finger curled around the handle of the screen door to the tiny Mayfield house, Billy yanks on it a few times. Just to rattle it in the frame. To make the white plastic smack into the trim. He’s already hollered for Max to hurry up twice. Now it’s just playful ribbing.

“Hope you remember how to actually use that board, zoomer, I’m gonna leave, I swear.”

He won’t. They both know he won’t. His days at North Shoreline High are in the single digits, now. He’ll graduate before they know it. In September, no one will be here to egg Max on and make her get ready faster. She’ll be skating to school. Or walking, whatever. The spunky freshman’s year of free rides is up, and she’s been quieter and quieter each morning when he drives them. There’s nothing he can do about it, though. He’s almost free of this hell. Almost free of school and all it implies. Free of his dad from being an overbearing jackass about grades that don’t mean anything. He’ll be free the moment he coaxes his boss at the body shop to just let him work full time. Money and job secured, he’ll move out of the broken house next door and make good on his promise to himself to never speak to Neil again. He’ll miss Max, though.

“Okay!” Her voice barks down the hallway right in front of him. She stumbles out in a whirlwind of fiery hair and flushed cheeks… and a skirt. Billy honestly hadn’t known Max owned a skirt. Clearly she does, because she tugs at the bottom of it like she can magically make it longer. It only falls to mid-thigh on her, will ride up when she sits. She meets Billy’s wide-eyed stare with a glare and grimace. “Okay, I’m here, let’s go already.”

She shoulders past him without her board, not unusual, but with a delicate cloud of perfume following her. Which has Billy’s head swiveling around to stare at her as she makes for his car parked on the street. It’s a beat-up Ford Pinto that hasn’t caught fire or exploded yet. Not that they do that anymore, according to the guy who sold it to him three years ago. Something about a recall and fixing it. Billy didn’t give a shit then and doesn’t now, just needed wheels at the time to drive as far away from Neil as a few dollars in the tank would allow. He was going to drive Max by the body shop and let her take a peek at the muscle car he wants to buy off his boss. But now swept up in the blushing, perfumed vision of her, he just stands there on her porch as she huffs at the car. Waiting for him, now.

She’s grown up. He knows that logically. It’s just been the two of them thick as thieves since they were kids. Never mind the four years between them. So it never worked out for school very much—Max finishing her freshman year just as he graduates in the same moment. She’s always been the little rugrat next door. Always climbing up the chain-link fence between their yards, always following him around the neighbourhood no matter how fast he ran from her. Only initially, because she was a little kid and he wasn’t somehow. Little kids were squares, annoying, and he just wanted to be alone. And break things. But Max did too, wanted to throw rocks with him and break glass, didn’t care when he would yell and bust his knuckles punching things. She’d dig a bandaid out of her pocket and shove it at him. No words, because what could she say? So they roamed the concrete streets like two junkyard dogs just to get out of their houses and away from their problems.

This though? This is something different. Something just out of step, and the back of Billy’s neck stings with the knowledge. He slips a hand under his curls to rub at the little hairs standing straight up on his nape. Because he knows this is one of those times where he looks at Max a little differently. She’s not the bruised up, mean little girl next door. Well, she is, but there’s a new layer to her. Maybe she’s just discovering it. No make-up paints her face yet—Max just doesn’t seem the type, too tomboy for that—but he’d definitely smelled perfume as she walked by. The inside of the car won’t quite choke with it. Billy will have to drive them with the windows rolled down anyway. He just hopes he can stop himself from staring at the creamy tops of her thighs. She’s barely 15 for crying out loud. She’s his best friend. He shouldn’t be weird about this.

“Keep your shirt on,” he grumbles under his breath while falling into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut behind him. He has to slam it, otherwise it won’t latch. “And put your seatbelt on.”

Max scoffs, “Whatever,” but does as she’s told.

Sure enough, when she sits in the seat and squirms around to get settled, the hem of her skirt rides up. It tears Billy’s attention between the slow neighbourhood street in front of them and her. Because Christ is she distracting. It’s been a gradual sort of thing. Just like he hadn’t sprung up and out to become a man all at once, Max won’t wake up one morning to thighs, hips, and tits. It’s all developed slowly, and Billy can’t help but notice the difference. He stares at her chest even now with the seatbelt slashed across her top. If she leans forward like now to reach for her bookbag on the floorboard, she almost has enough to make a show out of it. Almost enough for the sharp edge of the belt to cut into her chest. Billy nearly rolls through a four-way stop when another car is already taking their turn, so he decides to keep his eyes to himself. 

“So uh…” He swallows the crack in his voice, tries again casually, “So what’s with the get up? Never thought I’d see the day where you run out in a skirt.”

Max shrugs and stares out the window.

“Just wanted to. Why, do I need your permission or something?”

There she goes, tugging at the bottom of the skirt again. She’s probably not used to being exposed like this. She’s alway in jeans or shorts. Even the shorts she wears are longer than this. She’s not wearing any sort of hose or stockings, so her inner thighs rub together with every shift. He wonders if that’s strange for her, shuffles in his own seat at the thought. It’s… been a wild morning, at least. Won’t stop the awkward silence that keeps settling over them, though. Because things are about to change between them, and neither of them handles that well. They should probably talk about it.

Sighing, Billy grunts, “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just not like you, is all. You’re not into that girly shit.”

“Well maybe I want to be into ‘that girly shit,’” she sneers.

“Pft, doubt it. Come on, Max, don’t give me that bullshit.” Billy turns his head just enough to meet the glare she angles at him. Prickly this morning… “This is exactly like that time I thought eyeliner and fishnets were a thing I could be into. You wouldn’t get off my case about it, so what’s your problem? Out with it.”

That brings a smile to her lips. A snort in her little nose.

“Wow, I forgot all about that. Thought you were gonna walk out in full Kiss make-up one day.”

“Hey,” Billy snaps, jabbing a finger towards her. “I don’t mention the My Little Pony toys buried in your closet. That you gave new names to, because you hated the real ones. Don’t play the low-blow game, you know I fight dirty.”

They’re coming up on the high school, now. The traffic is at a crawl as students compete with parents to pull onto campus and find a parking space. He needs to get whatever is bothering her out now. Once Max steps into the shark tank of their school, she’ll close up and turn vicious like she always does. Cut-throat just to survive. He gets it. He’s the one who told her what it takes to survive this hell. He can’t always be there to bump chests and spit in the faces of guys who try to harass her or mean girls who bully her.

That’d only earned him screams and curses from her on the ride home. While he bit his tongue under Max’s barrage of accusations. That he was smothering her, that he was treating her like a little kid. She needed to fight her own battles. So he stepped off. Instead he stands around and watches other kids be cruel to her while he gnashes his teeth. So whatever this is with the skirt and perfume? With Max refusing to meet his eyes? He needs to get it out of her now while Max is still herself.

“Max,” he tries softly, doesn’t creep forward with the traffic to stay bumper-to-bumper with the car in front of them. He even lets someone in just to delay them. “Come on, I know this is about me graduating.”

“Wow, egotistical much? Not everything is about you.”

“Okay, then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing!”

“Max!”

A brake check sends their chests slamming into their seatbelts. Max whips her head around with a snarl already in place. Billy stares right back, ignoring whoever is honking at him to pull up. Like that’s actually going to intimidate him enough to get what they want. The longer Max holds his stare, the more her insecurity creeps in. It draws her shoulders up towards her ears, has Max hunching into herself. Like she expects fists to fly at her. More people honk now as Billy waits her out. He even tries not to scowl back at her, but his resting face is the stern sort anyway. She’ll give in like she always does.

Like the time she’d busted her knee falling and tried not to cry about it until he cleaned her up and hugged her. Or when her parents were fighting and she snuck into his yard, sat under his window until he noticed her. He helped her climb through the window so they wouldn’t get in trouble. Not to mention the time she got lice, had to cut all her hair off, and he showed up on her porch with his mop buzzed military-short. Dad was pissed at him for taking the clippers to his own head like a clown, but whatever. Misery loves company. He always has her back. This is the first time she’s actually resisted, and it makes his hackles rise. He’s about to scream from people honking at him, about to tell them right where they can shove their horns, when Max deflates all at once.

“You’re right, okay, you’re right, I don’t want you to graduate.” She smacks her hands down into her lap and slouches under her seatbelt. “Are you happy now?”

“No, but I will be.”

With that, he pulls out of the clogged turn lane that leads to the school. Drives right past the proud building and everything. Even when Max sort of leans out the window to watch the school grow smaller and smaller, he doesn’t stop.

“Uh… you know it was almost our turn to pull in, right?”

“Fuck school,” he says with a shrug, left hand casual as it hangs outside the car. “Let’s play hooky. Unless you’re suddenly too cool for that.”

Silence as he stares straight ahead, giving her a chance to respond. If he pressures her, she’ll just agree to whatever he wants. He has her honesty. He just wants the rest of it, too. The full story behind whatever this is. The skirt and perfume.

Max sighs so quietly and mumbles, “I didn’t eat breakfast…”

“Denny’s or IHOP?”

Max snorts and smirks at him when he says yes to the hoddle of coffee. She lifts a hand to cover her giggle when he stares her right in the eyes while pouring too much creamer and sugar into his cup.

“Would you like some coffee with your sugar?”

“Nah, never touch the stuff. It’ll rot your insides until you’re shitting yourself.”

“Don’t be gross,” she sighs with a roll of her eyes. The menu in her hands is sticky, and she grimaces at her fingers. “Do you think anybody ever wipes these menus down?”

Billy flicks his over by the edges rather than touch it full on.

“I mean? If you were paid a buck-thirty an hour, would you? With no guarantee of tips? While you were juggling hot plates, shitty customers, and loud kids?”

Cue silverware clattering to the floor and a baby screaming in a high chair across the restaurant.

Eyebrows flicking and head nodding, Max mumbles, “Good point.”

“Word of advice? When you go to get your first job? Apply as a cashier at a hardware store or something like that. Don’t go for the cliche of waiting tables just cuz you’re a girl.”

“When have I ever done that?”

Eyebrows going high, Billy slips a hand under the table to poke at a bare thigh. Max gets a few kicks in with her sneakers before he relents, although none of her attacks find their mark.

“I mean the skirt and perfume are a little overkill. I know you’re doing it for attention, been there done that. So spill it.”

Their waitress walks up the moment Max’s face twists into a scowl. Defensive. Billy has to tell her twice to order whatever she wants, he doesn’t care, before she gives in. Probably to not take up more of the waitress’ time. It’s a busy morning. She has at least three other tables who aren’t as patient as the two of them. The poor woman skitters away to another table with their menus tucked under her arm rather than take the time to return them. Billy thinks about Max in the uniform, having to tolerate men leering at her and other women treating her like she’s lesser. That’s not what he wants for her. More and more he’s been thinking about what he wants. And Max.

“So.” He nods towards her. “What about me graduating has you so hung up? And don’t lie, you little shit.”

Shrugging, Max’s fingers play with the condensation on her soda. He’s not her dad, so he’s not going to object to her drinking a Coke first thing in the morning. It’s not any better than his syrupy-sweet coffee. Billy only tolerates Max pussyfooting around for so long. He bends at the hips to swipe his hand under the table again, batting at her naked knees. A flinch tears out of her, but Max misses kicking him again. He gets it, though. Why this is so hard to talk about. The two of them? Not really talkers when it comes to feelings. Talk is cheap. It had been easier for them to hoof it to a junkyard and throw rocks through windows to get it out. This is important, though. They’ve never kept secrets. So whatever is bothering Max, he needs to know.

“Max.”

Shoulders slouching back, Max sighs, “Okay, jeez. I just don’t want us drifting apart, all right?”

“Why would we drift apart just because I’m graduating?”

“Because we’re gonna start seeing each other less,” she drawls like that’s obvious. “Billy, we barely see each other anymore anyway. And you driving me to school doesn’t count. You’re too busy to drive me home anymore. Because you’re working all the time. And when you’re not at your job, you’re driving around or with some flavor of the week.” Max presses her lips flat while mulling her next words over. They look like they hurt when she says, “We used to hang out in each other’s rooms all the time. You asked for a Super Nintendo for Christmas the same year I did so we could play in your room instead of sneaking you into mine. Do you even still have it hooked up? When was the last time we actually hung out?”

Defensive irritation sparks on the edge of his sharp teeth. But there’s not much fuel to ignite it. Because she’s right. He’s annoyed that she’s right. Because yea, he spends a lot of time at the body shop. Learning how to actually fix cars instead of the endless oil changes he’s in charge of. Why sit around his room when he could be at the shop earning money, honestly. Plenty of times where Max may have watched him drive away or climbed up on something to peek in his window. Only to find him gone. She stares at him from under a lock of her hair falling in her eyes. Mouth tight like when she’s trying not to cry. Besides his parents, she’s the only person who’s seen him bawl his eyes out. Mostly about Mom. Sometimes about other things. 

Sighing hard, Billy slides to the edge of the booth they’re in and steps out. Max flinches towards him, misconstruing him rising. He nudges her by the shoulder to scoot over, and she does after only a tiny glare. Max grumbles at his bossy shoves to get her to make room. But she puts up no fight, no objection. Billy keeps his pleased smile to himself as he arranges the table again. Coffee in front of him, he bumps their shoulders together on purpose. He gives Max a moment alone with her thoughts again. Is this okay? When she knocks him in the shoulder, returning his gruff affection, they take sips from their sugary drinks of choice. The waitress only pauses for a few seconds when she returns with their food. Otherwise, they tuck in.

“Okay, maybe we haven’t been hanging out a lot,” Billy admits while watching Max carve her fork and knife through pancakes. She doesn’t look at him. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, right? Like I never thought, ‘oh man, this kid is such a square, how do I get rid of her? Oh I know, I’ll give my best friend the cold shoulder. That’ll make everything real peach keen between us.’” Billy rolls his eyes at his own words. It gets a snort out of Max, though. Progress. “I can’t bank on my dad’s generosity forever, Max. And you know I’ve been dying to get away from him. Can’t do that without a job, money, all that shit.”

“I know,” she says softly.

He rocks into her again.

“Did I drop you when I started high school and you just got into sixth grade?”

“No,” she huffs.

“Okay, then I’m not gonna just stop being your friend because I’m graduating.”

He knows that’s not enough to assuage her, though. They’re stubborn. Doubtful. It’s easier to assume someone is going to let them down. So when it happens they’re not surprised. Maybe she’d picked it up from him and his bad attitude. Sighing, Billy sets his silverware down to free his hands. With them close like this and the table covering them, no one sees him slip the right one down. He’s nice about it, grabs Max’s bare knee instead of poking fun at her by grabbing her thigh. Not that it isn’t tempting, but if he flirts with her, she’ll be even more guarded. So he doesn’t, just holds on to her knee when she inevitably jumps from his touch.

Leaning into her ear, he murmurs, “I meant that, by the way. You know you’re my best friend, right Max?” He squeezes her knee, almost hums when she leans into him. “You’re pretty much the only person I can stand for long periods of time.”

“More like the only person who can stand you,” she fires back with a grin in her voice.

“Mmm, my ‘flavors of the week’ or whatever you called them seem to like me just fine.”

Max reaches under the table to pinch the back of his hand. Bright pain zaps through him, makes him yelp like someone’d stepped on his tail. Max just smirks at the thin glare he gives her.

“I think girls like your dick more than you. It doesn’t talk.”

“Some best friend you are.”

It’s just the twinkle of silverware striking their plates after that. Bumping their arms as they eat. Being close for the first time in… too long. Stomach sort of sinking, Billy knows they used to be so close. They used to run all over town getting into yards and stuff they weren’t supposed to. Climbing shit; breaking shit. They used to be physically close too, though. Hanging all over each other or him carrying her on his back. It was only a few years ago where she’d hitch a ride on the back posts of his bike and he’d pedal them around. Before he bought the Pinto, anyway. Piling on his bed with the Super Nintendo controller in her hand was how they spent their Friday nights and weekends. She hasn’t come over in a long time. Did he notice her absence? Or has he been ignoring it for fear of fucking it up and ruining their friendship?

Billy wipes his hands on a napkin and considers the situation. Considers Max in the corner of his vision, still leaning on him as she wipes the last dregs of syrup from her plate with pancake. She really has grown up. Up from the scrawny, knob-kneed tomboy next door who was tougher than him in some respects. Eating shit when she fell off her board for one. He rarely saw her cry over that, just washed off her bloody knees and palms and got right back up. Whereas to this day he fusses over minor cuts and scrapes. No she’s… She’s grown up. Not fully, but enough for him to see her that way. Max isn’t a little kid anymore. Below the table, her leg brushes his when she shifts beside him. She’s never worn a skirt around him before, and now that she is, he can’t stop thinking about it. How smooth her skin was under his hand; how he wants to reach under the table and draw his hand up, up, as far as she’d let him. He shivers from how much he wants that.

“Hey Max?”

“Hey Billy?”

They share a glance and quiet snorts when smiles tug at their lips.

“So… you wore a skirt and perfume because you’re upset I’m graduating, but what’s the logic behind that?” He leans harder into her, murmurs lowly in her ear, “Girls usually just want me to notice them when they get a little gussied up like this. Is that it, Maxine? You dressed like this because you knew I’d notice you?” He can’t help himself when he chuckles. “You got something else you wanna tell me?”

Max flinches hard next to him, sputtering and already shoving at his shoulder, his chest before he gets another word out. He manages a slick grin when she glances at him through a lock of her hair. She throws a scowl in his direction but cannot hope to cover up the flush under her freckles. It’s cute. She’s cute.

Shoving at him again, Max scoffs, “Don’t be gross, I’m trying to eat.”

“That’s not an answer.” When she just stuffs bacon in her mouth, Billy leans into her ear and purrs, “Max.”

“Oh my god, Billy, get off! You’re being weird.”

Maybe he is, but he can’t stop. It’s not a true line he’s ever crossed with her. Maybe he stands closer to her than he should. Maybe the times she fell asleep in his bed were always heart stopping for him. The perfect girl cuddled up to his pillows with her face shoved in one. Breathing him in. Someone he can say anything and everything to. Even right now when he’s being gross, she just gives him a look and goes right on tolerating him leaning on her like this. Max isn’t afraid of him or afraid of keeping up some mask while around him. She’s genuine. He’s surprised it’s taken him this long to see her as anything but the little girl next door. More than a friend.

It’s that thought, with them piled back into the Pinto, that leads Billy to pass the school up again as they drive by. Max sits forward and then back, craning her head as she watches them leave school behind yet again.

“Uhhh…”

“It’s not hooky if you only skip first period, Max, keep up.”

Face scrunched up in confusion, she asks, “Okay, so then where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

It’s not truly a surprise. Or at least he’s not taking Max anywhere new. Her confusion only grows more as Billy parks in his spot on the street, covering up the oil stains blotting the concrete. Fixing said leak would cost more than he thinks the car is worth. So every two weeks or so, he just tops off the oil from a bottle in the trunk. It’s a bandaid fix for sure, but he can’t be fucked to do more. If he has his way? He won’t own this car for much longer anyway. No, he has his eye on a certain muscle car someone never paid repairs on. And after a month or two of non-payment, his boss assumes ownership of the car. Billy has a little bit of money tucked away. He thinks he can sweet talk his boss into letting him buy the car off him. Even old men like Gary aren’t immune to his charms. Billy is confident it’s a sure thing.

Keys tumbled in his palm to find the right one, Billy leads Max up his porch and glances over his shoulder. She just frowns at him, still unsure why they’re here. Isn’t it obvious? Their parents are gone for the day. Carports, driveways, garages empty. No one will walk in on them or interrupt them. Because yea, Max’s mom Susan doesn’t really like him. Or rather she doesn’t approve of them being so chummy and close. If Max were anyone else, Susan would have every right to be worried about his intentions. But Max isn’t some girl. Unlocking his front door, Billy knows he’s an asshole towards girls. Using them like movie tickets only to throw the stub away the moment it’s handed back to him. He doesn’t keep girls. They’re amusing for an hour or so and then he’s done. Max is different. He’ll never be done with her, and hearing today she thought he was tears him up a little.

Billy steps into his room, kicks dirty clothes away from the milk crates under his TV to reveal a dusty Super Nintendo. He stands there with a hand on the old tube TV and watches Max carefully. She eyes the room with familiarity, a snort when she spies how messy it is. Typical of him, the complete opposite of the tidy room directly across from his window. She shuffles in, toeing her sneakers off, when she finally tunes in to where he’s standing. What he’s touching. Somewhere under this mess or maybe in his closet he has a shoebox with SNES cartridges. Ones they used to pass back and forth between their consoles—because why buy two copies? Even the controllers are still hooked up. Although Billy had usually refused to play with her, because they’re fiercely competitive and Billy is shit at video games. So she always won. It was an easy way to cheer her up, though. He offers her a flick of a smile when she stares up at him, expression blown open.

“I never moved it,” he confesses with his hand still resting on the TV. “I thought about it a few times, just to get it out of the way and not like kick it on accident. But I never disconnected it.”

Silence as she glances back and forth from Billy to the little grey and purple console. Bending at the hip, Billy sweeps up one of the controllers and flicks it towards her.

“Wanna play? I think Super Mario World is still plugged in…”

He bows down to squint at the top of the console to make sure. When he stands back up, Max is in front of him. It’s only because of her soft expression that he doesn’t leap away from her in fright. He hadn’t heard her step closer, and now he finds the space between them entirely too large. They haven’t been physically close for so long until today. Shoving her over and squishing her in the booth wasn’t enough. When they were younger, they were all over each other. He wants that again. More.

“We can sit on my bed. Like we used to.”

If there had been any hesitation in Max, it evaporates when he says that.

Almost snatching the controller out of his hand, Max teases, “What, you don’t wanna be Luigi? Don’t want me to wipe the floor with you like the good old times?”

Billy waves her words away as he perches his ass on his bed to tug his shoes off.

“You’re judging a fish’s intelligence by asking it to climb a tree, Max.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

Cupping his chin, Billy hums, “Hmmm and who was it who stomped all the way home crying when she couldn’t do the same tricks as me at the skatepark? Damn, I’m drawing a blank here, who was that…”

Huffing, Max shoves his shoulder while murmuring, “Asshole,” but climbs up on his bed all the same.

Billy makes no attempt to keep his eyes off Max as she knee-walks up to the pillows. His heart beats too hard and his skin is too alive to deny himself this. He still wants to know the story behind the skirt. The backs of her pale thighs hold his attention more than any girl he’s fucked. Swallowing hard, Billy easily imagines petting and kissing and teasing Max until she barks at him to hurry up. Hurry up and what? He’s always tried to be good around her and not think of her that way. Heavy breaths and backs arching, his name whimpered so sweetly. Staring at Max as she gets comfortable at the head of his bed, something she’s done hundreds of times, doesn’t make it easier for him. He has to know why she wore a skirt today. Maybe she’ll tell him once she’d blasted through a few worlds.

Perhaps out of habit, Max leaves the space to her left open for him. If they were attached at the hip, that’s where he’d be. He hesitates only for a breath to fill that space. Long enough to lean down and slide the power button on the SNES and turn the TV to the correct input. The opening for Super Mario World chimes right in as he follows in Max’s footsteps to the pillows. They’ve done this so many times. Why is this moment so different? Why is he so aware of his skin and how close they sit? How their arms rub together as they shuffle and bob to get comfortable again, now with Billy’s added weight sinking the mattress. He is hyper aware of her breaths and the click of the controller under her thumbs. Max slaughtering the game can’t hold his attention. Mostly because he wants to be suave and put his arm around her, but that puzzle piece of him has never clicked with Max before. He doesn’t know where to fit it in. The uncertainty is a stick in his spokes. Even Max picks up on his irritated silence.

“What crawled up your butt and died?”

“Why’d you wear that damn skirt?”

Not even stumbling through the game or conversation, Max just shrugs, gaze glued to the TV.

“What’s it to you? Maybe I just wanted to wear it.”

Billy makes a face mostly to himself. That’s a shit answer. She’s pussyfooting around, and she knows it.

“You’re a shit liar, Max.”

“Not lying,” she sighs, cocks her head to knock hair out of her face. “Why, see something you like?”

He’s too busy staring at the pale tops of her thighs to mutter more than, “Shut up, Maxine.”

Green-blue eyes glance away from the screen to his face and then down to see what he’s looking at. If Max lets go of the controller to tug her skirt down, she’ll probably lose a life. So Billy takes his fill while he can, knows she’s almost at the goal. Returning to the overworld once she wins will give her plenty of time to fix it. He readies a sigh in his mouth when the victory jingle plays, Mario flashing a V for victory. Now is when she’ll drop the controller in her lap, hop around a little while tugging the skirt down, and then pick the game back up. So when Max shifts and sort of… wiggles ever so slightly closer to him, hem of her skirt riding higher still, Billy finally tears his eyes away from all that skin. He tries to meet her eyes, but she denies him. She wiggles again as she dives straight into the next stage. Those little hands of hers never leave the controller. Her skirt stays riding high.

She… has to know he’s staring. Right? He’s not exactly subtle. Never is. What’s fun about being coy? He makes a game of it whenever Max is around. Nudges her when he’s eyeing a girl, trying to get Max in on the fun. Sometimes she shoves him and calls him gross. Sometimes she snorts and rolls her eyes. Never looks with him unless she has a mean comment spitting fire on her tongue. So she knows all his tricks, all his slick grins… So why isn’t she telling him off or struggling for modesty like earlier? It’s driving him crazy how each twitch of her or shuffle of her legs as she bends into the gameplay shifts that fucking skirt around. If Billy stares much longer, he’s going to do something stupid. So he grits his teeth, slumps into the wall behind him, and closes his eyes. He can’t do anything stupid if he doesn’t look at her and all her milky skin.

It’s still early in the day. Not even close to noon. Regardless, he won’t pass up an opportunity to win back some of the sleep school swindles from him. One more blessed week and it won’t matter. The blare of Billy’s alarm will carry purpose then—money, his job. So he doesn’t fight it when he falls asleep to the bleeps and chirps of the game. Drifting in the comfort of his bed and the body smell of his sheets, himself, he isn’t sure what wakes him. Not a shock or startle. His awakening is a bubble rising through syrup. Even when he reaches the surface and blinks to the TV off, controller cable no longer stretched up his bed, he’s not entirely free of sleep. Maybe that’s the reason it takes so long to click in Billy’s head that he’s no longer against the wall but more slouched into it. And Max is a warm bundle of girl tucked to his side, head on his chest. 

Billy’s arm isn’t quite around her. Wedged under her slight weight a tiny bit. If he moves, blood and sensation will rush back in. So he leaves the right arm to its fate. Courtesy of Max always sitting on his right, Billy’s left hand is free. Billy lies there for a moment more, listening to Max’s breaths, before he reaches across himself to touch her. Of course this isn’t the first time he’s touched her hair. He’s picked a bug or two out of a tangle. Played with the short ends when she was forced to cut it short. And he let her rub a hand on the peach fuzz of his shaved head. He almost lets out a bubble of laughter remembering it. Her opening her front door, face still splotchy with tears as she cried under the scissors. Only to find his mop even shorter. He did it himself, was still bleeding a little from where he nicked his scalp. They were just kids when he did that. Did it mean something?

He mulls it over only half awake while petting Max’s hair. Not hard. Barely with his palm cupping the silk of her. Vain about her locks just like he is. Now a hum rumbles out of him. He can’t help himself, knows for a fact she smells good. Billy tips his head down to rest his nose and lips on her. Just for a breath. A deep inhale that presses out a little more space between them where she’s slumped into him. He takes her slight weight well, could take more. She’d feel good lying on top of him. If she rolls forward a bit more, she’ll be halfway there. The idea to tip the scales in his favor is tempting. Billy drops his hand from carefully petting her hair to find her upper back. Movement begun, though, Max lifting her head without hesitation catches him right in the act. The gentle warmth of her rises through her t-shirt and into his hand as they stare at one another.

Billy opens his mouth without any plans ready in his brain. Of what to say, how to play this off like he hadn’t been petting her in her sleep. Or actually, he’s pretty sure she was never asleep in the first place. He blinks the last dregs of sleep away, heart beating a mile a minute under her stare. Max is wide awake, though, no drowsiness dumbing her movements. She is rather sure of herself when she hops that much closer, tangles her fingers in his t-shirt. It’s a size too small so it hugs every peak and valley of him. So her little fingers brush him through the cotton, stirring his blood awake once more. Their gazes are intense on each other, but Billy betrays himself when his blues flash lightning quick down to her thighs. The skirt almost gives away what her panties look like. 

“Billy.”

“Yea?”

Her knees sunk into his bed shuffle closer. One of them brushes his thigh.

“You really wanna know why I dressed like this?”

“I only asked like five times, so…”

She drops their stare, blinks somewhere near his chest as she considers her next words. Or rather her next move. Billy’s left hand flinches out of the way where it’d fallen to his lap when she sat up. He has to make room for her, because Max swings a leg over his hips to straddle him. The skirt is perfect for this, doesn’t restrict her. Now it gives her no modesty as it bunches up her thighs and flashes the front of her panties at him. He’s too sinful to deny himself a peek, stares openly at the white cotton hugging her body. Is she old enough to have hair? It’s not often he fucks freshmen, doesn’t remember when he’d started ripping panties down to find wisps and tufts of coarse hair. Max leans forward on her knees, though, and cuts him off. She’s in his face, hands braced on his chest when she shivers.

“You were right. When you were saying all that stuff about girls wanting you to notice them. I… I wanted you to look, okay?”

Max isn’t lying about this. Max lies all the time about anything and everything. Not this, not with her shoulders hunched ready for his ridicule or rejection. Her delicate honesty, you were right, finally stirs life back into Billy’s hands. It feels right when he holds her by the waist and squeezes her. Feels even more right when she gives him a whole-body shudder on top of him.

“You have my attention,” he says lowly. “So what do you want?”

Max hunches deeper into herself. Not quite shying away. Just nervous like when he takes her to a parking lot and lets her practice driving. It’s not innate to be so honest about what she wants between them. She always defers to him, always scoffs and sasses away his insistence that she make decisions. Where do you wanna go? What do you wanna eat? Which movie? What do you wanna do? He won’t let her do it this time. He needs her to be very firm about what she wants, what this is supposed to mean.

Shuffling under her a little, Billy squeezes her again and tries, “You want me to look at you, and now I am, so what do you want? You wanna fool around? Is this serious? What do you want?”

Of course he knows what he wants. He could just take it from her. He’s not above twisting a girl’s arm a little to get her to agree to something when she hesitates. Literally and figuratively. He’s not a good person. Hurting Max isn’t something he wants to do. For the first time in his life, he just wants someone to want him back. So he doesn’t have to play games and sweet talk someone into it.

Max fidgets with his t-shirt and won’t meet his eyes when she stammers, “I-I don’t know, I…”

“You know,” he insists. “You dressed up like this. It wasn’t an accident, you did it on purpose.” Billy sits up but keeps Max close when she startles on her knees. Her hands are flat on his chest when he bows his head to murmur nearly against her temples, “I’m not mad or weirded out, Max. You gotta tell me what you want, though.”

His restraint must mean something to her. Because Max picks her head up and stares at him almost with stars in her eyes. She knows better than anyone what he does with girls. What he does with someone he wants—even if that desire is of the flesh only. Him deferring to her means everything. He’s never ‘dated’ a girl before. Maybe that’s not what Max wants anyway. Billy can’t find it in himself to be annoyed with his assumption. Maybe she just wants some dick. Maybe she doesn’t think about him the way he thinks about her. The tenderness that fits him like socks on a cat. Max craning forward and tilting her head to kiss him isn’t an answer. He’s not one to turn down a kiss from a pretty girl, though. 

Billy sits up that much more to take advantage of his height. Max shivers against his chest when his big hands go sliding from her waist to wrap around her, holding her. So long as their kisses don’t devolve into something messy and filthy, he won’t need to grab her jaw and direct her. It’s more natural this way, bobbing and diving into each other as they hum, as they share breaths. Lapping at the little gap between Max’s lips, Billy is torn between wanting Max to know how to kiss or having no clue. On the one hand, he won’t have to teach her anything. Just hit the ground running. On the other hand… it means someone else has kissed Max. And he doesn’t want that. His possessive side rises like a shadow, and his next hum is part growl. Just thinking about someone else kissing Max first has him shoving his tongue past her lips and through her pretty gasp to fill her mouth. If this isn’t her first, then he’ll make her forget anyone else.

The little hands on his chest spasm, fingers curling into cotton and skin underneath as Max clings to him. There’s no trick to kissing girls. No secret. He’s good at it after plenty of clicked teeth and drool. Max whines a little around them when he won’t stop darting his tongue through the gap she leaves him. She leans harder into him and shoves him out, chases him over the divide until she’s lapping at him. That gets something flipping in Billy’s stomach like waking from a dream. He’s never kissed a girl who actually kissed back. This is what they must feel like. Max presses her lips harder to his every time she comes back down from their little bobs. He lets her lead, lets her weight drag him farther down the wall until he’s crammed between it and his mattress. 

When Max backs off, all her weight on top of him, Billy breathes, “Jesus, Max.”

“I know you’re gonna razz on me,” she bites out, almost whining. “It’s fine, whatever. I like you, okay? I liked you for a long time, I just didn’t want to, cuz you’re a gross asshole.”

He blinks up at her.

“I cannot deny that.”

When he says nothing else, just brushes his hands up and down her lower back, Max asks, “Is that it? You’re not gonna laugh at me?”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” he says with a waggle of his head. Not quite mocking, but amusing.

“Rich coming from you.”

“Maybe.” Deeper, he says, “I’m not an asshole all the time. Not to you.”

“Yea,” she says through another shudder. She’s shaking, but she’s the one on top of him. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

Now he waggles his eyebrows at her, more himself after her forward kisses, and drawls, “I’m actually really good at that part, if you’re curious what all the fuss is about.”

Max’s full weight is still on him. Unmoving and slight. Billy knew she’d feel perfect like this. Not one to play coy, Billy helps himself to petting her hair again. Now that she’s not pretending or hiding it anymore. So he holds the side of Max’s throat with one hand and threads the fingers of his other through wavy locks. Neither of them speaks as Billy takes in how nervous she is. Now that he knows the truth. It’s not the first time a girl had a crush on him. That used to happen all the time before the girls in higher grades than him understood his… feeding habits. Changing girls as often as the winds change direction. Max is the one with exclusive details on all that. She knows what a woman eater he is. Billy almost smirks at his own joke. He wouldn’t mind showing Max.

“Well?” He gives soft strands of hair a gentle tug. “How about it?”

She flashes him a tiny smile but squirms while she does it.

“I don’t…” She shies away more and gives him a few bubbles of nervous laughter. Because it’s real. It could be real. All she has to do is say yes. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine you being like my boyfriend or anything, but I don’t want to fool around once and then be done. That’s what you do to girls.”

Billy shrugs and sits up to close the distance she’s made between them. Can’t have that. She can be nervous all she wants, but he’ll keep her close. If he gives her too much slack, she’ll bolt. So Billy loops his arms around Max again and yanks her forward, grins when she glares at him and tightens her hands on his chest again. Billy fakes her out a few times like he’s going to kiss her, but he aborts at the last second. His chuckle is rich when Max’s fingers in his shirt twist and keep him close. He could get used to this. Max being bossy and huffy while they fool around. No girl has ever treated him like this before. 

“Not gonna do that,” he purrs in her face. “We don’t gotta put a label on it, but I’m not gonna drop you. Already said I wouldn’t.”

Max turns her cheek to deny Billy kissing her. Or faking her out again. He hadn’t decided yet.

“This is different.” She glances at him out the corner of her eye to drive it home. “You don’t… You don’t care about the girls you fuck.”

Grumbling, Billy presses a biting kiss to her jaw and admits, “I care about you, shitbird, isn’t that obvious?”

“Pft, yea right, real funny Billy.”

They’re chest to chest courtesy of Billy’s arms and strength when he bites out, “Who’s the one who stole your skateboard back from those teenagers when we were little? Huh? And who took your money and ran for the ice cream truck because the guy’s an asshole and wouldn’t stop? Do I need to remind you of the times I’ve beaten kids’ teeth down their throats for being shitty to you?”

They are stubborn. But neither can deny the truth when it stares them in the face. Billy has never dated a girl before, isn’t sure if he’s interested in that attachment. But he wants Max, has wanted her for a while, too. He won’t let a little insecurity stop them. At least now Max’s hands relax at his chest. She’s not glaring anymore. No longer defensive, she watches him with her head turned, lips rolled flat as she considers him. Is she hopeful? That this could be real? They could be something? At least friends with benefits. They’ll never get anywhere with Max so timid. It’s cute, but he’d rather they dive into each other like that first kiss.

Rolling his eyes, Billy slips a hand between them to take Max by the chin and force her head around. She cranes back when he bows forward for a kiss, but other than that she allows it. He lingers long enough to lap at her bottom lip again before pulling away. The sight of her lips parted, her own tongue about to dart out and play, makes him snort.

“So you’re not like the others, okay? I’m not gonna hit it and quit. So you wanna do this or not?”

It’s as close as he’ll get to fully admitting he likes her, too. Or whatever this feeling is for her. He’s not big on labeling it. He’s not big on complicating it.

His fingers still keep control of Max’s chin when she asks, “Can we make-out? I haven’t done that very much.” Her hands flatten on his chest and then pet lightly over cotton and muscle beneath. “It felt good to kiss you.”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs before smacking a kiss to her. “Lemme just get you where I want you…”

He goes to dethrone her, to twist them until they’re both lying down or at least until he can cage her in. Max’s hands sliding up to his shoulders and pushing him down stop him. He’s surprised enough to let her guide him all the way back to his bed and pillows, just blinking up at her.

“I wanna be on top.” 

Much like Max kissing him back had stirred something in him, the way she bites her bottom lip after she says that perks him up. Billy wiggles under her to get comfortable and stretch out rather than cram himself in the corner like before. Hands on Max’s waist, Billy squeezes her and rubs his thumbs into the bumps of her hipbones. For extra cheek, Billy digs under Max’s shirt to touch skin. He’s ready for her to jolt on top of him and giggle. She’s ticklish here, too, like all the other girls before her. She’s different, though. Whatever they get up to, he’s going to want her more. He almost wants to drag her down and tickle her for real until she’s breathless and begging him to stop. But her eagerness for this wins him over. Next time. There will be a next time.

“C’mere,” he purrs. “Talk is cheap. Lemme kiss you some more.”

Max rolls a smile flat between her lips. His charm isn’t the siren’s song it usually is. Because it’s her. He knows that. She’s stood by while he chatted up girls, rolling her eyes and gagging to make fun of him. It works in some way, because she wiggles down his body to lie on top of him properly. She has to crawl back up him when she misjudges it, though. Luckily, her knobby knees spare his junk from harshness when she squirms. Billy squeezes her waist again, enough, and darts his head up to steal a kiss. Max squeals against him but just as quickly moans and leans her weight on him. Thin arms slip up to curl around his head and hair as she bobs with him again. The idea that someone has done this before doesn’t sit right with Billy. He’ll just have to show her how it’s really done. That he’s better and she doesn’t need to kiss anyone else.

Humming before he dives into her again, Billy’s hands aren’t satisfied with remaining chaste on Max’s waist. Max jolts on top of him when he returns to petting her back up and down. Settle down, he’s not going to hurt her. He’s not going to do anything without asking. That’s not exactly his usual game plan, but for Max he’ll make an exception. He’s not bending the rules for her if she doesn’t know about the rules in the first place. Like his general rule about kissing. He’s not exactly into it. For Max? He’ll make out. It’s whatever. If she wants more, then he’ll give her more than some tongue. The angle of their heads right now isn’t great for kissing, though. Already the strain in his neck stings. So grumbling as he pulls away from her, Billy grabs Max by her ass and hauls her higher up his body. He doesn’t immediately release her, instead fondles her pert cheek and grins when she shudders.

“You like that?”

She scowls at him just as quickly as she’d shivered.

“Shut up and keep kissing me.”

Max bows down to kiss him first before he gets any smart remark out. Billy laughs against her lips but concedes defeat. If she’s not going to object to his hands getting frisky, then he’s not going to stop. He’ll play into her shyness. Wouldn’t be the first time a girl was a little gun shy. They’re so wrapped up in this purity shit. So full of shame. It’s sad, really. He can’t imagine himself shying away from sex or from his own body. It’s natural. Him wanting her is natural, too, so he doesn’t resist. Max flinches on top of him when Billy tightens his fingers in her cheeks, grabbing her firmly enough to sink into her. It’s not enough for him through her skirt and panties. He wants more.

Billy breaks their kiss to pant, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Confusion flickers over Max’s face, and then her expression melts into surprise and pleasure when he moves. Billy flips up the back of her skirt and smooths his hands over cotton and warm flesh. When he grabs her again, staring Max dead in the eyes, hers flutter shut as she moans. Max huddles on top of him, dropping her face into his hair and an ear. Billy turns his head to get at her cheek, pressing little kisses to her face as she trembles. She makes no move to bat him away or to tell him no. So he pets the backs of her thighs as far as he can reach before sweeping his palms back up to her ass. Up and down, up and down. Maybe no one has ever touched her like this. The notion sets something loose in him. Something possessive and hungry.

Grabbing Max by the ass again, Billy tries to see if he can get her to move on top of him. If he can coax her into grinding on him. Shuffling, he slips his legs between hers to knock them apart. If she wants, she can dig her knees into the bed for leverage. She cooperates and coos so sweetly in his ear when he rocks them together. It only takes a startled whimper from those pink lips to get Billy in on it, too. Heels sunk into his bed, Billy rolls his hips up to meet her. Max doesn’t know what to do, though, just lies there trembling in his hands. He knows without experience it feels good. She’d whine or snap at him if it didn’t. Keeping his grip firm and pace even, Billy nuzzles some of Max’s hair away from her ear. To clear a path.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m not gonna hurt you. It feels good, yea?”

He doesn’t mean it in a teasing way this time. He keeps on rocking her even when she gives him a shy nod. Max won’t look at him, hides her face in his hair and pillow instead. Her shyness does something to him. Makes him want to tear her apart but be gentle at the same time. Conflicting. A shiver runs through Billy this time, and he cranes his neck to kiss her jaw.

“It’ll feel better if you move with me. Come on.” His hands tighten on her ass, push her harder into him. “Like this, like I’m doing.”

It takes a few more rolls of Billy’s hips for Max to try. Normally? This sort of hesitation would turn him off. He’d shove the girl away from him, light a cigarette, and take off. Because frigid bitches aren’t worth his time. Max isn’t like that. She’s just shy and scared, full of that shame chicks have. So Billy shushes her little whimpers when Max finally figures it out. Her legs caging his tense as she tries to find leverage, tries to rock in time with him. His hands guiding her help Max find that rhythm. Billy smiles against Max’s jaw when she finally gets it, finally shudders when she grinds on him for real.

“That’s it, baby doll, damn you feel so good.”

He’s ready for her to bark at him to shut up. Isn’t ready for Max to shake hard under his hands and whimper, “Billy…”

That’s a green light to him. Billy kisses whatever of Max’s face he can reach to coax her up. Even murmurs for her to look at him. She picks her head up the next time he goes to kiss her cheek and meets her lips instead. Face bright red under her freckles, Max’s eyes pinch shut as she kisses him back, moans with him when he pops his hips up. This would be better for her if she rode his thigh. But whatever, he gets to grind his dick on her, too, so he can’t be bothered to shift their positions. He’ll leave finger marks or maybe even bruises on her ass from how hard he grips her. Billy wants more, isn’t sure if she’ll let him. So he slows them down a little, gives her lippy, loud kisses as he draws his fingers over the legholes of her panties. Not exactly wiggling his fingers under the cotton but teasing the idea. Max hums into his mouth and grinds harder on him. She can always so no if she doesn’t like it…

Billy catches Max’s squeal in his mouth when he slips his fingers under her panties. He finds soft hair, groans back, and then slides his hands up to grope her ass. The cotton of her panties is so thin, but nothing beats skin to skin. He’ll probably stretch them out with his big hands, but fuck it. Max can complain after he feels her up. Can he make her come like this? Just making out and groping her? Making out isn’t about orgasms, but he’s not much of a make-out guy in the first place, so… It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. She’ll stop him if she doesn’t want it.

Squeezing pert cheeks hard again, tearing a jump out of Max, Billy’s hands dip low. It’s easier for the right to pull her panties to the side and let his left have all the fun. Max’s hips rolling into him stutter when he tugs white cotton away to expose her. No one can see the short, red hairs between her legs or how she’s wet from squirming on him. Billy wishes he could see. Maybe next time. Instead, he firmly holds her panties out of the way and scratches his fingers through coarse hair. She probably smells clean like soap from her shower this morning. He wouldn’t mind holding her down and shoving his head under her skirt to find out. Next time, he promises himself with a groan. Right now, he just draws his fingers up and down the crease where Max’s thigh meets her body. If he twitches a little to the right, he’d pet over the pink center of her. He wants to.

Panting between kisses, Billy growls, “Gotta tell me to stop if you won’t want this.”

‘This’ meaning the pressure of his fingers pressing down on short hairs. So close to where he wants to touch her for real. To dip his fingers into warm wetness and play with it. Maybe get his fingers in her if she’ll let him. Billy bites a kiss to pink lips and gives her a teasing swipe. His fingers come away a little sticky, and he rubs the pads of them against his thumb to feel it. Fuck, he wishes he could see her instead. Max’s arms encircling his head and hair tighten, though, almost clinging to him. It’ll have to be like this with her shaking on top of him. It has to be now, or she’ll chicken out. Billy doesn’t doubt for a second that Max trembling on him like this is part excitement but also part fear. Fear of the unknown and change. It’s not his first time fingerbanging a virgin. So he’ll be gentle.

And he is when he adjusts his grip on her ass and panties. Billy’s right hand cups her cheek to hold her open for him while his fingers hook into white cotton, making sure it stays out of the way. Thick fingers help themselves to new terrain, teasing Max with more scratches to short hairs before touching her for real. Max jolts on top of him and coos again. Her hips have gone a little still without him guiding her. Or maybe she’s afraid, who knows. Billy’s neck will hurt after this from how much he strains it to kiss her again. He doesn’t care as he catches a fluttery gasp with his lips when he drags his fingers up and down the wet seam of her. Max wiggles, shuffles her legs open wider, and cants her ass up for him. Billy groans into their next kiss and takes that as permission. She wants him.

It hasn’t taken much to get her wet. Sticky and slick, it makes rubbing his fingers through her folds that much better for both of them. Max especially. He wants her to feel good, wants her to want this again. He knows she’s different just from that fact alone. Normally he wouldn’t care if the girl is aroused. Nothing spit and some harsh rubs to her clit can’t fix. This is better, Max’s hips trembling as she tries to follow the lazy up and down path of his fingers. Just playing in the mess he’s making of her. She huffs when their kisses pause, cracks open an eye to find him already watching her. Still, his stomach flips when their eyes meet, electric. Billy bends his wrist as far as it will go to glide wet fingertips down, down, until he brushes the little bump of her clit. It’s already hard, so he flicks his middle finger over it.

The ache that will surely develop in his wrist is worth it to watch Max startle hard and slam her eyes shut again, moaning tripping over her lips. Billy doesn’t stop even when her hands tangle in his curls as she holds on for dear life. Oh yea, nobody has ever touched her like this before. She may have traded spit and groping hands with a boy or two, but not this. Billy tips his head up to mouth more kisses to her trembling lips. Max bites back her whimpers for a second more before opening for him, shoving her tongue in his mouth, and earning her a surprised noise from him. Not to be outdone, Billy smirks into their aggressive back and forth while hiking Max higher up his body. She yelps when he does, has to crane her head down to keep kissing him. But this way, his reach is better. It opens him to new ventures and opportunities. Like dragging his fingers back to her wet hole and playing games there, too. Teasing like he’ll push into her. 

“Billy,” Max groans when they separate. She uses the space between their mouths to pant and make all manner of pretty noises for him. She rocks back a little on his fingers and stammers, “What are-what are you mmm…”

“Want me to stop?”

“No! No, don’t…” She trembles and cuts off her own words with a fluttery whimper. The tip of his middle finger slips through slick and skin to nudge her hole. He could slip right in. He bets she’s tight. Shaking hard, Max shakes her head and hides in his hair again. Small and shy, she whispers, “I don’t want you to stop.”

It must take a lot for her to say that. To be honest with him and about what she wants. Max’s shyness is so sweet on his tongue. Billy darts his head up to peck a kiss to her blushing cheek. He leaves her to her hiding place as he tucks into her neck instead. Sharp teeth nibble her as he adjusts his grip again. Wider open he holds her, helping to separate slippery skin. So he can wiggle a finger into her easier, not needing to worry about skin catching on skin. Billy doesn’t want to hurt her. At least not like this. He doesn’t mind sinking his teeth into her to catch her jolt when his finger glides in. Max’s next high-pitched whimper tickles his teeth. He bites her harder, sinks into her deeper. He tastes the perfume on her neck.

“Billy!”

Humming around delicate flesh, Billy thrusts as hard, as deep as he can. Fuck, this angle is shit. He should roll them over. Max just clings tighter to his hair, thighs clamped around his waist and hips. She huddles on top of him and shifts her hips to help fuck herself. If that’s not the hottest thing that’s happened to Billy in a long time… He groans, lifts his teeth up, and bites her lower. Closer to the crook of her neck where he’s sure she’s sensitive. The cloud of Max’s perfume joins her sweat and the heat of her to fill Billy’s head. Silky walls already a vice around him snap tighter, relax, only to tremble around him again. Another hum from him ripples through her neck when he jams his finger harder into that spot that makes her flutter. It’s rough, right there, and he pinches his wrist to swirl his finger over it.

Billy’s name and ‘please’ and ‘harder’ sneak out between Max panting and moaning. When she can catch her breath. She’s loud on one finger with a bad angle. How loud would she be if he were lying between her legs? If he had his tongue in her? His dick? It’s enough to make him throb in his jeans. He’s hard from her squirming on top of him, stays hard just from the sound and feel of her. The clutch of her around just one finger is so delicious. Billy bucks Max up his body again so he can squeeze two fingers into her. So tight, more so when he scissors her open just to feel her fight him. Max’s cry bounces off the posters tacked to the walls. She squeezes hard around him again. She’s close.

If he wants to do this right, he needs his other hand. He could move them, but that’s too much to do right now. He’ll make a mess of her panties once his right hand lets go, but fuck it. He wants to make her come, and he’s going to. Billy rips his right hand free, trying to keep the filthy pace of his fingers true as he squeezes the others between them. Billy fights the front of Max’s skirt trapped against his stomach. Finding a path, he jams his right hand so crudely down the front of her panties like a pervert coping a feel. It’s the last piece of the puzzle he needs to unlock Max’s pretty noises and make her wail and jerk on his fingers. Callused pads pet over hair, wet skin, and then rub hard back and forth over her clit. It’s harder than it’d been when he first touched it. He has no problem keeping the little bundle trapped between Max’s body and his fingers as he swipes her to orgasm. All with the tips of his fingers jammed into her sweet spot over and over.

Max throbs around him, cries his name with an edge of panic. Billy, Billy, oh god right there. He hadn’t considered her never having an orgasm before. Could this be her first? Billy bites the crook of her neck and groans with Max wailing. She comes so pretty around his fingers, her voice twinkling like wind chimes as her moans lengthen with her orgasm. He’ll comfort her plenty when she’s drifting in the afterglow. If she even needs it. Both wrists will hurt after this, but he doesn’t stop the mean swipes of his fingers or the wet smack of his knuckles against her ass. He’ll do it better next time, too. Everybody’s first time is shit, right? At least they like each other and Billy isn’t a total creep. Max could have ended up with worse.

Shuddering on top of him, Max’s whimpers soften as she comes down. The spasms around Billy’s fingers slow as her orgasm stretches on. Billy forces himself to lift his teeth out of her only to kiss and suckle at the indents. Max yelps when he latches on tighter to suck blood up through her creamy skin. He can’t help himself, has to leave at least one mark on her. It’s one of his favorite things, to leave marks on girls. So they have to fluster afterwards and hide it. Because everyone will know what he’s done to them. They’re fully clothed and he’s just fucked her for crying out loud! It’s the most chaste, vanilla fucking he’s ever done! He deserves one mark on her. 

Grunting, Max almost bashes her shoulder into Billy’s face when she grunts, “Stop, you’re gonna leave a bruise.”

Billy pulls off to purr, “That’s the point,” before sealing his lips around buzzing flesh again. 

A mean tug to blond curls gets him to stop. Billy grunts when Max pulls him away, doesn’t let him go until her lips find his. He allows it, laps his tongue with hers even as he shifts his fingers in her a few more times. Max squeals against his lips, and he smirks when he slips out of her. Both hands are plenty sticky when he slides them out of Max’s panties. He grins lewd and filthy in her face when he shows her the mess they’ve made. Billy’s chuckle shifts Max when she grimaces, cranes her face away,

“Gross, go wash your hands.”

“I’m not the one who made my hands all sloppy like this,” he teases.

Color climbs into Max’s cheeks just before she rolls off him. Cooler air sweeps in to take her place, and Billy almost hisses. He’s still a little hard in his jeans. The front of his shirt and jeans are damp from their sweat. It is late May after all.

“Fine, I’ll go wash you off me.” He staggers to his feet but lingers at his bedroom door, grinning at her. “You might wanna take a turn after me. And you’re gonna wanna change your panties when you go home.”

Max launches one of his pillows at his face, but Billy ducks out of the room before it hits its mark. He’s aching between his legs from being hard for so long when he finally stumbles in the bathroom. It’s quick work, hunching over the toilet like he’s fourteen again and jerking off in the privacy of the bathroom. Because Dad isn’t big on locks, will absolutely break a bedroom door down if he finds it locked. So if the urge had struck back then? Distributing some literature in the shower was his only option. Dad isn’t home now, so Billy isn’t too concerned with keeping quiet like he usually has to. He hums and pants, grunts Max’s name just before he shoots. Head tipped back as he strokes every drop out, he wonders what Max’s hand would feel like around him. Or her mouth. Or that tight pussy of hers, which he needs more of. Next time, he promises himself.

When Billy drags himself back to his room, hands clean, Max has the SNES on again. She’d just turned the TV off, is sitting on the overworld of World 5. It’s not a good indication of how long he was asleep. Max blows through this game like it’s nothing. Max watches him as he crosses the messy floor to stand by his bed. They just look at each other for a little while, trading twitches of smiles. It doesn’t have to be awkward. They can still just be friends and do this. Billy doesn’t know if he wants more than them fooling around. Some part of him cares about Max more than that. He said he wouldn’t drop her, and he means it. He means it this way, too. It’s too mushy and lovey dovey for him to deal with right now. It’s not him. So he smirks and curls his fingers towards himself.

“C’mere.”

Green-blue eyes narrow at him. Considering rebellion. But eventually they roll and Max climbs onto her knees to shuffle to the edge of his bed. When she gets there, Billy bends down, cups her jaw, and draws her into slow, lippy kisses. Gentle things with a wet sound at the end and him staring deeply into her eyes.

“You okay?”

Max’s shoulders hunch up a little, her shyness returning in the face of what they’ve done. But she sits down and slips out of his grasp, nods when he continues staring at her.

“Y-yea, I’m fine… Are you?”

Now she turns curious eyes up at him.

He snorts, drawls, “I’m not the one who got fingerbanged for the first time, so.”

Her tenderness for him breaks as she scowls and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be gross. And what makes you say that was my first time?”

She asks that with a sassy waggle of her head, her lips pursed haughtily. Billy just snorts at her again and hooks his thumbs in his pockets.

“Call it a hunch.” He jerks his head to the hallway. “Bathroom’s clear. Your turn. Piss if you can.”

She makes a face at him, snaps, “Why?”

“It’s just something you should do after sex, trust me. Or don’t, you’re a big girl.” He winks at her. “We can cuddle when you get back, if you’re still soft on me after that.”

He’s not entirely interested in that. But he knows Max is more sensitive than she lets on. She’d probably like it, being held after sex. Why not indulge her? Especially if it will make sex better for her. He wants her to enjoy it, wants to avoid her getting a bad taste for it because of him. He’s not the best choice for first time, but she could have ended up with worse.

“Fine,” she scoffs. “Get out of the way then.”

He does with only a pinch to her ass, sliding his hand under her skirt. She’s fixed her panties, tugged them back into place. It’s tempting to toy with her, to maybe yank them down a little. But he won’t outstay his welcome besides that pinch. Max makes to claw at him, but Billy tips his balance to fall on his bed. He bounces a few times as he grins at her, mirth persisting even after she disappears down the hallway. The SNES controller is at his elbow. He’s never personally made it past World 1 of the game—he’s probably never made it to Iggy’s castle, let’s be real. Sniffing, he rolls onto his side, picks up the controller, and selects the next stage. When Max walks back in, it’s to the sound of him dying from falling in a pit. He’s used up three of her lives at this point.

“Billy!” She shrieks, charging for the bed and leaping on him. “Stop, you’re wasting my lives, give it back!”

He struggles with her, laughing as Max tries to bat the controller out of his hands. Like she hasn’t beaten this game a hundred times. They roll on his bed, game forgotten, and the empty house eventually fills with the bubble of her giggle, Billy’s richer chuckle just under it. They have no mind or worry for the day wasting away, just tussle with each other. Max wearing her little skirt and perfume have won her the day. Won her Billy, at least for now. They’ll figure out the details as they go. They’re best friends after all, and they have each other.


End file.
